


After All

by Inell



Series: Teeny Fic Challenge [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Breaking Up & Making Up, Doctor Jackson Whittemore, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, Future Fic, Getting Back Together, M/M, Reunited and It Feels So Good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 09:40:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9813617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: Stiles isn’t expecting to find Jackson standing on his front porch at nearly midnight.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [42hrb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/42hrb/gifts).



> sterekseason said:Stackson for the tiny fic meme 
> 
> And after all that we've been through  
> It all comes down to me and you  
> I guess it's meant to be  
> Forever you and me  
> After all
> 
> After All by Peter Cetera & Cher
> 
> The lyrics above were the random song on my playlist that hit, and the inspiration for this not so teeny fic.

 

The sound of the doorbell draws Stiles’ attention away from the case file he’s been studying for hours. A quick glance at the clock tells him it’s after eleven, which is too late for unexpected visitors. Did he order pizza? He sometimes unconsciously sends in an order on his phone while he’s hyperfocused on a case, especially when he hasn’t eaten in a while, so maybe that’s who it is. Just in case, he grabs his wallet as he walks to the door.

“Good grief. I’m coming,” he calls out when the doorbell rings again. When he swings the door open, he blinks in surprise. “You’re not Giovanni’s delivery guy.”

“Seriously?” Jackson huffs in annoyance. “That’s all you have to say?”

“Well, what should I say?” Stiles moves his gaze over Jackson eagerly, noticing that his hair’s a little longer, curling above his collar right now, and he’s got circles under his eyes that weren’t there the last time they saw each other.

“How about hello?” Jackson arches a brow. “It’s nice to see you? How have you been? Come inside because it’s fucking freezing and I know you hate the cold?”

“Those are all possible responses, but not necessarily the first ones that come to my mind right now.” Stiles bites his lip and looks past Jackson to his driveway. “When did you trade in the Ferrari?”

“Last year. I turned thirty-five and realized I needed to start slowing down,” Jackson says, shrugging a broad shoulder.

“Jackson, it’s a fucking speedster Maserati. That isn’t slowing down,” he points out, looking from the car back to Jackson. “What are you doing here?”

“I just happened to be in the neighborhood.” Jackson drags his fingers through his hair before he sighs. “I woke up this morning and needed to see you.”

“You’re still living in Boston, aren’t you?” Stiles grips his door a little tighter as he looks Jackson over again. “You’re wearing scrubs.”

“Yeah. I worked last night. I slept at the hospital for a couple of hours between the end of my shift and my impromptu road trip. Didn’t bother changing when I left the ED.”

“Please don’t tell me that you seriously just drove from Boston to Chicago without a full night’s sleep.” Stiles leans his head against the door and just stares when Jackson’s jaw tenses.

“It was fine. I made the trip in fourteen hours,” Jackson says. “I wasn’t sure if you’d still be here. If you might have moved or something.”

“I would have let you know if I moved.” Stiles steps back and motions inside. “Get in here, dumbass. It’s cold outside, and you’re letting all the warm air out of the house.”

“Would you have?” Jackson unwinds his scarf and looks at him intently. “Why? Why would you tell me if you moved, Stiles? I left you last year, and you don’t owe me a damn thing.”

“It was an amicable decision.” Stiles walks through the living room to the kitchen. Now that he’s stopped focusing on his case, he’s realizing that pizza would have been pretty great right now. Since he doesn’t have that, he’s going to make some soup instead. “Remember? You had an amazing job opportunity to be the assistant director of an ED, which is a huge coup for someone your age. You didn’t leave me for another person or because we no longer cared about each other. You left because I encouraged you to take the opportunity you’d been given so you wouldn’t regret declining. I’d have let you know because we’re still friends and we parted on good terms.” 

“Why do I regret accepting it then?” Jackson has followed him to the kitchen, and without even hesitating, he’s getting stuff together to make hot chocolate. The moment makes Stiles freeze, his gut twisting and his heart racing, as he stares at Jackson. Jackson seems to realize what he’s doing and stops, too, looking guiltily at Stiles before putting the cocoa powder on the counter. He looks into Stiles’ eyes and whispers, “I miss you.”

“Me too,” Stiles admits softly, refusing to think about how empty the house has felt since Jackson moved out, how cold his bed is, how no one he meets can quite measure up to what he’s already had. “Why are you here, Jackson?”

“I had to see you.” Jackson tugs on his hair, looking pained for a moment. “I had this stupid nightmare, and I could have called, I know I could have, but I just had to _see_ you.”

“Well, you’re seeing me. Now what?” Stiles asks, tightening his grip on the can of soup he’s just pulled out of the cabinet. “You’ve got a life in Boston now, a job I know you enjoy, and a new car that’s just as fast as the old one, even if it’s not as sporty looking. We’ve still got the same circumstances we had when you woke up this morning.”

“I want to come back.” Jackson looks vulnerable and scared when he finally raises his head and looks at Stiles again. “I’d rather have you than some stupid job that’ll look good on my resume but isn’t there to hold me at night when the dreams get bad, isn’t there to support me when I need it, isn’t there making me happy because you chose _me_ to love.”

“Jackson, you’ve had a long drive.” Stiles refuses to get his hopes up.

They’ve been playing this game for over fifteen years now. Running into each other in DC for college had led to friendship that became dating by junior year. They’d moved in together before graduation, stayed together while Jackson started med school and Stiles had FBI training. Then Stiles got sent to a field office in Pittsburgh after training, and they decided they weren’t cut out for long distance. Jackson got a residency in Chicago, and Stiles transferred there for a promotion to a behavioral unit that works the entire Central region of the US all the way down to Texas.

They met up for coffee, and the feelings were still there, even more intense after being separated for a few years, and they’d got back together. They’d been happy until Jackson got the offer in Boston, and Stiles knows Jackson had considered not accepting just because of their relationship, but he’d sort of insisted because he wasn’t going to turn into the reason Jackson lost a great chance for success. And, now, a year later, Jackson’s standing in their kitchen—no, _his_ kitchen—wanting to come back.

“Whatever you’re thinking about, stop.” Jackson reaches out to touch his face. “I probably shouldn’t have ever gone, but I did, and it was a mistake. I still love you, Stiles. So fucking much. Can I come home?”

“For good this time?” Stiles clears his throat when he hears how soft and scared his voice sounds.

“For forever, if you’ll have me,” Jackson whispers before he’s pressing his lips against Stiles’ mouth. Stiles returns the kiss, dropping the can of soup on the floor as he moves his arms around Jackson and pulls him close, not planning to let go this time. Not when they’re finally where they’re meant to be.

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr](http://inell.tumblr.com)


End file.
